She’s lucky she’s so cute. This mornings conversation with my 2 year old…

Me: Rylie, you listen to me!
Rylie: No Mama, YOU listen to me!

WHAT?!?!

Sometimes, it isn’t until everyone goes to bed, and things calm down that you finally realize what’s going on around you.

I kept Rylie home from school today because we had a Dr. appointment, and it was just easier than pulling her from the class in the middle of everyone’s nap time.

She was happy to stay home, and happier to hear that she was going to see the Dr. Apparently I unknowingly reward her with chicken after her Dr. visits. When I told her we were going to the Dr. today she said “YAY! and then chicken?” The kid has a memory like no other. She dressed in her finest tutu, strapped her sandals on the wrong feet and sashayed out the door.

In the car we practiced opening our mouths wide for the Dr. Naturally, she caught on quick.

Our visit with the Dr. was faster than any of the time it took us to drive there, check in and wait to be called to the room. As soon as he heard her breathe he knew, and when she opened her mouth and said AHHH there was no question. This kids got tonsils bigger than one could ever imagine. Her airway is about the size of my pinky nail. Can you imagine trying to breathe through that?

I was ok when he said she would need surgery to have both her tonsils and adenoids removed, I’ve prepared myself for it for weeks. But now that it’s quiet, and I’m getting to think about it more, my fears are taking over. I know this will be good for her. She is a terrible sleeper, a heavy mouth breather, she gasps for air just taking a sip of water. But when I think of her falling into a deep sleep that is not her own, being in surgery, alone, or waking up without me or Harris, it just makes me sad.

But I don’t know if I’m more sad about all of that, or the fact that she has suffered so long with this and we weren’t advised sooner to see an ENT. I’ve always felt like I was overreacting bringing her to the Dr. for every sneeze, cough and sniffle. Each time we’ve left with the diagnosis of an ear infection but no concern about tonsils or ear tubes. Maybe they thought she would grow into her extremely oversized tonsils. Maybe there really was nothing they could do at such a young age. And probably for her this breathing is all normal. After all, she’s literally had these problems since she was born. But regardless, I just want her to have the best quality of life she can.

Our surgery will be only about 25 minutes. We’ll spend an overnight at the Phoenix Children’s Hospital. And then we’ll head home for a few days of recovery as we enjoy princess movies and ice pops on the couch.

It will all be ok. I’m certain of it. Just wish us well, please. It’s scary letting your children out of your hands with no control over what happens next.

I love my baby with every ounce of my being, and the time we spend having fun and playing together is amazing and wonderful. But I have to confess something, and I hope people don’t judge.

I dread putting my kid to sleep. It is the most exhausting process and often puts me in tears. I hear this is normal… a “sleep regression.” She used to pull my hand and drag me to her bed. Now I drag her, kicking and screaming.

During the week, Rylies’ teachers tell me she is happy to take her nap, every day, at the same time. In fact, she clears a space for her cot, climbs on and shuts her eyes in no time.

Our weekend naps are not so simple. Neither is bedtime. No matter how tired she is, Rylies’ legs get more and more active as her eyes get heavier and heavier. She kicks me in the stomach, the face, she kicks the walls, puts her feet between the slats in her crib and kicks…just out of control kicks. She thrashes around and I can’t get her to stop. It takes nearly 2 hours to get her calm enough to fall asleep. Imagine your worst night of sleep, when you toss and turn, get tangled up in your blankets, can’t get your head just right to be comfy on your pillow… that’s Rylie.

Adding to that is my usual stress of having to finish up something for work, or do something around the house that hasn’t been done in days in the short amount of “me” time I have before she wakes back up.

I shouldn’t complain. I have a happy, healthy baby. Perhaps it’s the stress of not having my husband around this weekend, and the growing list of things I have to do. I really wish at this time I could lay down and take a nap myself.

Not the most uplifting Easter post, I know, but it’s the reality of my day today. Time for me to get off my booty and get ready for round two… only an hour before she’s back up and running.